


fugitive

by ollie_oxen_free



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Bounty Hunters, Cowboy AU, Murder, Other, Outlaws, im too big on cowboy AUs these days, tags will be added if needed but for now this is mostly a one shot, this happened lol, typical rootin tootin wild west lootin violence, wanted outlaw muffet kinda and also gay cowboys so, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie_oxen_free/pseuds/ollie_oxen_free
Summary: They say dying ain't no way to make a livingSo get your gun and bet your life, if you're a gamblerx
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), background Alphyne, sf papyrus & muffet, sf papyrus/uf papyrus, spicymaple, uf papyrus & undyne
Comments: 38
Kudos: 31





	1. shoulda listened to yer pardner

**Author's Note:**

> im far too fond of cowboy AUs and i cant stop thinking about them. anyways, ive been listening to nothing but country music for the past few weeks. how is everyone else doing?

They had been about to turn back when they saw the tipped carriage.

The sun was over them in the sky, blazing down on the mostly barren dust and dirt of the valley. Though Edge couldn’t truly feel the heat he knew it was hot, if not from the sweat on his stallion’s neck then from the loud click of Dyne’s gills as she struggled to breathe in the sun. When they reached the wreckage they paused their horses and Edge slid from his saddle, grabbing the container of water from the side bags and tossing it to her. She caught it in the air easily, head turning towards him. He could just barely make out the yellow glow of her eye from under the hat and coverings she wore as protection from the sun.

“Drink some water,” he said. “I don’t need to have to drag you back to a town after you pass out from heat again.”

She scoffed, though the effect of the words was dimmed by the hoarseness of her voice. “Like I haven’t dragged your ass outta danger more times than I can count.”

Edge wisely kept his mouth shut, waiting until she took a drink and slid off herself to walk up beside him.

“Is it her?”

He crouched down in front of the body that was on the ground, hooking a claw under the lace doily that was covering his face. There was a mark of black lipstick on his temple, his eyes staring unseeing towards the sky. They’d yet to fully glaze over, and the blood that was soaked through the front of his shirt was still a bright, shining red. Not dried.

“It is.” He let the edge of cloth fall back down over his face, standing fully. “Recent. Less than an hour.”

Dyne laughed, pleased. “Cart’s empty. Whatever he had went with her.”

They made eye contact, unspoken words passing between them. She couldn’t have gone far.

Sudden noise from inside the tipped carriage made them both tense, guns quickly drawn and pointed at the cart. 

“Hands up!” Dyne barked, any roughness in her voice now gone. It was a commanding tone, something she’d picked up from her time in the army before her discharge due to injury, enough to make anyone scared enough to obey.

It worked, as it always did, trembling hands reaching up from the broken side door. A woman stood, hair that looked to once be done nicely hanging limp with sweat and tears. She sobbed, chest hitching with her breath, and with another glance at one another they lowered their weapons. Edge climbed onto the side of the carriage, reaching down and helping the woman out, a feat made more difficult by the volume of her skirts. 

“Name?” Dyne asked when they got her onto solid ground. 

She told them through tears, gaze locked onto her husband’s lifeless form. The name was familiar, a well-known tycoon in the area. Wealthy, as most victims were, with hardly a clean past. When she’d finished telling what happened, pointing in the direction their bounty had fled, Edge led her to Dyne’s mare, lifting and setting her onto the back. As he turned he came face-to-face with Dyne, his partner pulling down the covering over her face to reveal a sneer. 

“Hell no,” she said. “You’re not pulling this hero shit alone. I’m coming with you.”

He stepped to the side, ignoring her. “Get her back to the nearest town. I’ll follow the trail.”

Dyne grabbed his arm, roughly turning him. “So you can get yourself killed playing lone ranger? Fuck you. We’ll head back out together.”

“And risk losing her?”

Dyne went silent at that, glaring at him. The woman on her mare choked out a sob before she stifled it once more, the noise drawing her attention. For a moment she was quiet.

“If you get yourself killed I’m bringing you back from the dead so I can kill you myself.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Understood.”

Dyne stared at him, as if a hard enough glare could directly see his future, before giving a sharp nod. She wrapped the cloth back over her face and swung into the saddle, leaning back and saying something to the woman riding behind her. The woman nodded and wrapped her arms around Dyne’s waist, and with one more heavy look at him they turned and rode away.

Edge waited until their form was little more than a speck on the horizon to mount his own steed, starting off in the direction of the tracks he could make out in the loose dirt. He rode for a few hours, leaving a path obvious enough for Dyne to follow after him, long enough that the sun that was once directly above had started to rest at the horizon, bathing the land in a pale orange. In the distance sat a range of mountains, terrain that would be too dangerous and difficult to navigate in the dim light, much less if you were transporting a large amount of stolen goods. The tracks led straight ahead, right to them, an obvious place for shelter, whether it be a cave or a vast cliff to protect your back.

He clicked his tongue, riding parallel to the range until the sun finally set, only bothering to trot up to them in the dark. He hesitated after he dismounted, tying his steed in place to a small bramble bush.

The town they had come from was a little less than a half-day’s travel away from the wreckage. By the time Dyne returned the woman to town and came back, the sun would have long since risen, leaving the open plains visible for miles out. When Dyne finally met up with him their bounty would have long since left, seeing her comng. (Or worse, he thought, would have attacked preemptively. She had no real qualms about killing. The bodies left in her wake proved that.)

He checked the rounds in his weapon in the moonlight, his decision made. He would find her and, if others were with her, he would wait for backup. If not, he would take her on himself. The bounty said “dead or alive.”

It didn’t matter much to him either way.

Edge knew how to be quiet as he moved, was always careful to make sure that everything he wore, regardless of purpose, wouldn’t give him away with too obvious a noise. It was a skill he was grateful that he’d cultivated as he saw the dim flicker of fire in the distance, crouching down and closer to the rough cliff-face as he made his way to it. 

It was a dip in the cliff, not quite deep enough to be referred to as a cave, but the edge of stone blocked his view inside. He stopped just outside the spread of light from the fire, the hand holding his gun hanging down by his side. He peered around the corner, taking stock of the situation.

She was alone. The small description under her photo on the wanted poster, the image blurred around the edges but still clear enough to see the faint upturn of her lips, said that ‘Muffet Arachna’ worked alone. He wasn’t so trusting as to simply believe that, though.

One set of her hands was holding a small book, the leather binding it worn and old. The rest were still aside from one which rested near her hip, a single claw running over the handle of a gun poking out from its holster.

She may have been alone, at the moment, but there was another small pile of items near the fire, dipped in like someone had been sitting there and got up. Not truly alone, then. Edge started to move back, planning to ride back to meet Dyne and potentially cut the band off, when something cold pressed against the base of his neck.

“Headin’ somewhere?” Said a rough voice just behind him.

A hand shoved the center of his back, making him stumble a few steps before he righted himself, standing still. Any attempts to fight back left his mind when Muffet looked up, the hand that had been playing at her gun whipping up, pointing the barrel directly at him. So there was more than just her. Some good the information did him now.

Edge glanced over his shoulder to see the one who’d caught him, taking in a skeletal face that matched his own, two of his sharp teeth capped in gold. He grinned when their gazes met, a dry humor.

“Told ya we should’ve killed them both,” he said. The words weren’t directed at him, though.

Muffet sighed with the tiredness that comes from an argument had many times before. “I don’t like to waste my time or smear my makeup, dearie. You know this.” The voice behind him grumbled it’s complaint. 

She sighed again. “Anyone with half-decent intelligence would have found us from the wreckage along anyways. Leaving her slowed them down. And,” she continued, only now closing the book that was in her hands and standing, “split them up, since I hardly think anyone would be after me alone.”

“You seem to be awfully confident in your abilities,” Edge said cooly, though the amused spark in her eyes let him know she saw through it.

“Not confident, but self-aware. I make a pretty prize regardless of my bounty.” She winked at him with one of her eyes, the other four remaining rigidly fixed on his face.

“Muffet?” The voice behind him asked.

She sighed, this time more annoyed. “Slim, I’m in the middle of a conversation. We’ve talked about this.”

There was the sound of footsteps shuffling on the ground, like the other- Slim, apparently- shifted in place. “Should I shoot ‘im?”

Muffet scowled, black-painted lips turning down in her frustration. “No!” A pair of her hands came up to rub at her temples, like a headache was forming. “How many times must I explain this to you! There’s an art in the chase. Now quiet down before you hurt yourself.”

Slim grumbled but, nonetheless, fell silent. Muffet turned back to look at him after a moment, taking a composing breath before smiling. The light from the fire danced off her fangs, giving them an eerie glow.

“And you’ve chased for a while, haven’t you, dear?” Edge didn’t answer, but she didn’t seem to want one. 

“There was a ranger after me, not long ago.” She continued. “But he ended up falling behind. Not paying nearly enough attention and getting careless. But you don’t seem the type to end up a dead fool, do you?”

“That would depend on who you ask,” he said dryly. 

Muffet laughed, delighted. “Well I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

She looked behind him, making a quick gesture with her hand, and he had no time to respond before something heavy was brought down on the back of his skull and the surrounding cave faded to darkness.

When he woke a few hours later, skull throbbing and arms and legs bound as he sat alone in the cave, he only had to wait a bit longer before Dyne found him, not even bothering to untie him before she cuffed him upside the head.


	2. wait, are they gonna....? no, it couldnt be..... unless....???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when they stop to rest at a nearby town, edge realizes that he should probably start to draw out his descriptions of criminals instead of just telling dyne about them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings for this chapter!

The town they rode up to was a small one. Even from far away Edge could tell there were only a few buildings to it, a settlement that looked to be haphazardly thrown up and then somehow allowed to stay. Had the sun not been setting he would have insisted they keep riding on, and even if it hadn’t been he would have considered camping in the spattering of forest a few miles on. Dyne was the one who suggested the town, though, remembering it being in the nearby area from her brief stint as a hired gun. The concept of having a roof overhead was more appealing than he wanted to admit, so he’d given into her prompting.

Right on the edge of the town sat a ranch, the pale grass of the plains shown through patches of dirt. One of the cattle lowed as they rode past, looking up at them with large eyes before going back to picking at the grass.

As they neared the end of the fenced in area, the rest of the town came clearer into view. They rode up to a general store.

Dyne looked over at him. “If I head in to get supplies are you gonna end up tied and gagged in a corner?”

He glared at her, saying nothing. He slid off his horse, tossing the reins over the rail in front of the trough. Dyne cackled as she slid off after him, doing the same. The…  _ situation _ he’d found himself in a few days prior had yet to lose its appeal to her, something she was more than happy to gloat about whenever she got the chance.

The fact that he hadn’t been killed had been a surprise. That the woman they ended up saving hadn’t followed after her husband wasn’t, though. Arachna had a vanity about her, something that was obvious even just hearing the rumors about her crimes, and she always left one alive. Whether that was to instill fear or because she liked hearing about herself, he didn’t know. Something told him it was a mixture of both.

Before they walked in Dyne pulled the bandana over her gills off, dipping it into the trough of water and wringing it out. As she wrapped it back around her neck she let out a satisfied sigh. The heat could be rough on her, sometimes, her body much more suited to more humid, warm climates. It didn’t mean that Edge didn’t pull an expression of disgust at her use of the undoubtedly filthy water.

When they entered the shop it was mostly empty of people, aside from a man off to the corner near the counter, a sharp knife in hand that he used to whittle away wood. The rest of the shop was full with items, canned goods and ropes and tools. Behind the counter sat an array of guns and rifles with ammo to match.The shop owner looked up as they entered. He quickly went back to his whittling, uninterested.

Dyne took off her hat, shoving it into his chest. “Hold this,” she said, then moved to a rack that displayed other, newer hats.

He glared at her back as she picked off one of them, placing it on her head and turning side to side to look in the dirty mirror set up beside it. He finally sighed, tossing her old hat, riddled with holes, on the counter and moving around the shop, grabbing a few cans and other foodstuffs before going to the front. 

The man glanced up then, finally setting aside his woodwork and standing with a grunt. He looked young but moved like he had the joints of someone much older. His eyes were set deep in his face and his chin was dusted with day-old stubble, like he’d yet to shave.

“Travelin’ through?” He asked, voice gruff.

Edge nodded, then pointed to a box of ammo. The man fetched it for him, then glanced behind him. Edge didn’t need to look to sigh deeply, stretching his hand to take the new hat that Dyne handed to him with grudging acceptance, knowing if he didn’t she would find a way regardless.

As the man typed on his register Edge asked, “Is there an inn?”

The man shook his head. “‘Fraid not. Town’s too small. Don’t even have a sherriff, so we just take care of business ourselves.” He paused, then peered at the two of them through narrowed eyes. “Y’all don’t plan on causin’ any trouble, do ya?”

“No,” Edge spoke before Dyne could answer. The man finished ringing up her hat and handed it to her, and Edge held back a grunt as she nudged his back with a sharp elbow as she left the shop, pulling the hat on over her head.

The man pushed the items to Edge and counted the money handed to him. “There’s a livery on the other end’a the town. An extra dollar’ll earn ya a night with a roof overhead.”

Edge nodded his thanks, sweeping the items into his satchel. Then, to gather more information, he asked, “Have any others come through here recently?”

Dyne and himself had been following the rumors of where their bounty had gone, the direction of the last being what led them to the small settlement in the first place. Instead of answering the man looked up at him, the wariness in his gaze answer enough.

“Thought ya said y’all didn’t plan on causin’ touble,” he said carefully.

“Any trouble we make will happen long after we’re gone.”

The man stared at him for a long moment then hummed, satisfied with the answer. Before Edge could leave the man stopped him. “When ya get ta the livery tell ‘em Harley sent ya. They’ll let ya stay fer only the price of boarding.”

Edge nodded his thanks, leaving the shop. When he relayed the info to Dyne she grinned, the daggers of her teeth easily slotting together. “Looks like we’re staying the night.”

“Seems so,” Edge said, taking the reins and slinging his leg over the saddle. If Dyne seemed particularly excited by the appearance of a bar on their way to the livery he ignored it.

Last time he tried to keep the other from a drink (or twelve), he’d nearly lost a finger.

* * *

Edge had just managed to nod off despite the skitter of mice and steps of the animals around him when he started awake again, hearing the stall he and their horses were in open. He’d pulled his colt halfway out of its holster before he realized it was Dyne, and the budding violence quickly morphed into frustration. If Dyne saw his start she didn’t show it, grinning at him with disheveled clothes and a hazed eye.

He holstered his weapon with something close to amusement as she flopped to the ground, carefully taking her new hat off and hanging it on an exposed nail.

“Enjoy yourself?” He questioned.

Dyne barked out a laugh as she shifted in the straw and sawdust of the floor, making herself comfortable. “Won a drinking contest with some kid.” To prove it she reached into her belt, pulling out a few wrinkled bills.

“Tormenting youth again?”

She snorted, flipping him off. “Ah, shove it. He couldn’t’ve been any older than y’ are, ya bastard.” She squinted at the wooden wall of the stable, like she was thinking. “Looked a lot like ya, too, come ta think of it. Though most’ve y’all skeletons look alike ta me.”

Edge, once listening to amusement, quickly felt his marrow run cold. “Another skeleton?”

Dyne nodded, eye drifting shut. “Yep. Came in after I was a few drinks in? Prob’ly wanted ta win an easy bet, but I wiped the floor with his boney ass.”

Before Edge could ask any more the stall filled with snores. Annoyance rose up to the front of his mind. Of course she had. He glanced at the entrance to the stall, then back at his pardner. It was unlikely that, had Arachna and Slim been at that bar, they would have known who Dyne was. And, he thought in frustration, even though he’d spoken to Dyne and given descriptions, it was unlikely she’d bothered to listen about those who had no bounty on them.

He stood, decision made, patting his steed on the hindquarters as he passed behind him. He would check the bar for the skeleton Dyne had spoken of. If it was a stranger, he’d simply leave.

If not, his gun was loaded and his reflexes were sober.

The saloon was easy to find, the bright lights spilling out from windows into the streets and the drunken laughter and music easy to follow. Most of the town spent their days trapping or panning for gold in the many surrounding streams and caves, and by night they’d eagerly go and drink their money away before starting the cycle again.

No one looked at him as he entered, though his eyes immediately locked on a skeletal figure sitting alone at the bar. Edge moved up to him, standing just behind him. Slim’s head turned, just enough to see him from the corner of his sockets.

The other grinned.

“Well, if it ain’t the ranger.” He turned back to the bar, taking another drink of the ale set in front of him. “Don’t worry,” Slim said. “I don’t plan on killin’ ya, at th’ moment.”

“I can’t promise the same for you,” Edge said, hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun.

The other chuckled. “I’d be careful ‘bout that, were I you.”

It was only then that Edge noticed how the bar had gone quieter. A quick glance around the room showed that most of those who had been so busy with their drinks and conversations had stopped and were watching the two of them intently. He slowly brought his hand off his gun, though the tension in the room remained even as a few of the less curious and threatening glances looked away.

Slim patted the chair beside him. “Take a seat, ranger. I’ll buy you a drink.” Edge didn’t sit, remaining stiff just behind and to the left of the other. Slim shrugged. “Suit yerself.” He took another drink.

“Where’s Arachna?” He asked, voice quiet.

Slim tilted his head, like he was thinking, but didn’t turn. “For the bounty? Or is it pride?” Edge didn’t respond. After a pause Slim answered his question. “Gone. I’ll meet up with her soon, but fer now our paths split. If ya follow me, though? I’ll lead ya on a wild chase. I got enough money ta last me a while, n’ I don’t have a bounty on me. Not yet.”

Frustration coiled in his chest. He quickly let it die, keen on the eyes watching them. 

“Yer smart, though, ta have tracked her this far. Brave too.” Another drink. Edge stayed silent. “She says the guy before you wasn’t smart enough, but he was. Nearly killed her. Would have, if I hadn’t been there.” Slim grinned, like he thought Edge wouldn’t kill him. Or like he didn’t care either way. “S’why she told me to come with her.” 

Slim took another drink. The final dregs of ale slid down the sides of the glass, foam clinging to the front of his teeth. With that he stood, pushing the mug to the other end of the bar. Only then did he look at Edge, the grin this time nowhere near his eyes. “‘N I’ll kill you too if I have ta, ranger. Even if I’d prefer not ta.”

“And why is that?” Edge’s hand itched to rest on the butt of his gun, but he was acutely aware of the stares of those in the bar around them, like they were looking for an excuse to fight.

Instead of answering Slim slowly glanced down, eyes dragging up his form with a weight obvious enough that it nearly made him shudder. Nearly. It stopped when Slim met his eyes, a spark of something other than amusement resting deep in his sockets.

“See ya around, ranger,” he said as he turned and walked away, leaving Edge standing alone at the bar.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sitting at one of the chairs and waving the bartender over, ordering a bourbon. Edge wasn’t an avid drinker, but for now he needed at least one.


	3. in which alphyne remains the best ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the duo's travels take them to a town known for both its violence and its drinks. no wonder Dyne is well known here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CHAPTER WARNINGS:** minor character death, moderately graphic depiction of injury, amputated fingers, old west medicine
> 
> gonna level with yall this chapter isnt that good BUT i want it done so i can write more muffet and/or skeletons so im shoving it out there

The signs were easy to follow. Bodies and death tended to be obvious tracks, and Arachna left both behind wherever she went. Except, of course, for now. It made sense that she would have a hideout, somewhere to store her ill-gotten goods and rest between her crimes, made more known by Slim’s previous words of their paths having ‘split.’

He’d dissected the conversation between the two of them countless times since that night, sifting through the words for any potential clues about their bounty’s whereabouts. If Slim knew where she was he’d let nothing go, and by the time he’d managed to rouse Dyne from her hungover rest, having stayed up the majority of the night waiting for some unforeseen attack, Slim had been long gone. The only reason he hadn’t followed after him was because he knew that the other wasn’t lying when he’d said he would lead them astray.

A group of two was easier prey and harder to hide, so it worked out in their favor, in the end.

Even though he gleaned no new information from it, he continued to turn the conversation over and over in his head. The slightest gestures, the intonation… That look at the end of something a bit deeper, one that he knew, and perhaps if there had been circumstances of a different time…

He shoved the thought down as quickly as it arose. There was a job to be done and a bounty to collect. Nothing else was worth considering.

Dyne whistled, low. Edge looked over at her with a frown.

“Lost in thought?” She said, easy, any remaining hangover from the three days prior completely gone. 

That first day of travel- when Dyne could barely keep her eye open against the sun and when Edge was tired from lack of decent sleep- was rough. They spoke little, only when they needed to, and the anger Edge may have felt towards the other’s drunken oblivion that night was eased by the tight expression of pain on her face when the sun shone directly into her eye, however cruel the thought was. It was only after their first night traveling again, sleeping under a spattering of fir trees, that Edge felt like himself, and it took Dyne another night to stop flinching whenever she moved her head too quickly.

“About your ignorance, maybe.” 

She rolled her eye at the jab, and though the bandana covered her neck and face he could imagine the scowl pulling at her expression. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: skeletons all look the same. Only reason I can tell you from some poor corpse rotted away and bleached by the sun ‘s the fact that you look so damn angry all the time.”

He glared at her. It only made her laugh. “There, see? Now I know it’s you.”

He turned back to the trail they were riding on, knowing it was another few hours before they came upon the city and hoping he could at least wait to strangle her until there was a bathhouse he could use to clean the dust out of his bones.

* * *

They had only just come upon the town, resting as a dark, flat line on the horizon, when a group of riders came up to them. The two of them had stopped near the side of the trail, planning to let the other riders pass, when they stopped in front of them, effectively blocking their travel. Four humans on as many horses, all pairs of eyes fixedly resting on Dyne. Edge decided to let her take the lead, remaining silent as she spoke.

“Afternoon, Flynn. Don’t suppose y’all’re just enjoying the daylight, are ya?”

One of the humans- Flynn, Edge supposed- spat on the ground, the sticky, brown-black tar of chewing tobacco. “Ya shouldn’t’ve come back ‘ere, lady. More’n one ain’t happy ‘bout your ‘work.’”

Edge ignored the speaker, eyes moving over the other three who stood silent around him. All had their hands on their guns, eager to fire in either revenge or for payment of their own. One of them was obviously young as well, overconfident in the way that youth with little experience were.

Dyne snorted. “And you’ll die fer their upset, I suppose?”

The man sneered. When he moved to reach for his gun Edge moved, whipping out his colt. He fired at the two on the right, one hitting in the space between the eyes and the other catching the human in their shoulder. The one shot dead slumped forward, the hand that hadn’t even had time to clear leather flopping down towards the ground as his body propped against the neck of his horse. The shots had all rang quick, but Edge knew Dyne was alive- if not completely unscathed- by the loud cursing coming from beside him, a string of words harsh enough to damn even a priest by proximity. 

He had never been a holy man, though.

The two that Dyne handled- Flynn and some nameless man- were dead. One had fallen to the side out the saddle, though his foot remained caught in the stirrup as his horse skittered a few steps back, dragging the corpse behind it.

A groan came from the group in front of them. The youngest human, the one Edge had shot in the shoulder, was clutching his chest, pain pulling his face taught. He glanced between the two of them with fear, and then to his gun that had fallen to the ground, eyes alight with pain. Dyne didn’t seem focused on him, too busy taking the bandana from her neck and wrapping it around her hand, crimson dripping from a wound to the dust below.

Edge slid from his saddle, moving to the bodies on the ground. He took their guns, knowing they wouldn’t need them, before he heaved the two who had fallen back onto their horses, bringing the remaining reins to the human. He stooped and picked up the dropped gun, emptying it of its bullets before sliding it back into the human’s holsters. All the while he just stared at Edge, something like shock frozen on his face.

“Get back to the city. Tell anyone else who thinks they’re slick that we aren’t looking for trouble, but if it’s brought then we’ll kill them.”

The boy nodded, breaths ragged. Edge turned and walked back to his horse, hearing the other start back with the remains of his group, quickly moving away. When he saddled up he looked over to see Dyne staring at him. He held her gaze. She scoffed, pulling the knot of the bandana tighter around her hand to staunch the flow of blood.

“Yer damn soft,” she muttered.

He put the guns he’d grabbed into his saddlebags before nudging his steed with his spur. Further on he could see the boy, going at a speed that had to be a pain to his injury to get away from them.

“I killed one, didn’t I?”

Dyne rode after him, her injured hand clutched to her chest as her other held the reins. “Coulda easily killed ‘em both,” she said. “Yer glancin’ bullet’s what got me hit.”

She was angry at him, then.  _ Better him than the young boy now riding back to the town, _ he thought.

“You’ll live.”

“Bastard,” she said, and this time he gave a frustrated sigh.

“He was barely old enough to need to shave,” he said.

“Old enough ta try ta kill, though.”

Edge shook his head. “It doesn’t really click, until you do. What taking a life means. You know that.”

They both knew that. Dyne kept her mouth shut for a few moments, a miracle in and of itself. The scar over his eye, the one he’d gotten so long ago, gave a painful throb, there and then gone.

“Damn soft,” Dyne said. It was with some frustration that he realized she was right.

They didn’t say anything else until they reached the town.

The place was loud, but not surprisingly so. Front Street faced out to the wide trail they’d come from, and at least a dozen hand-painted signs advertised drinks, poker, and ‘entertainment’ that likely consisted of the more carnal. They stopped at a water tank set up just in front of the street to let their horses drink. Edge slid from his saddle, ignoring the glances of the others gathered around the water in favor of taking in their surroundings.

Further to their right, on a wider, packed dirt path stood a herd of longhorns. As he watched the others gathered around the tank resaddled, nodding at the two of them as they made their way back to the herd. He nodded back, watching them go. When they were out of sight Dyne cursed, low, cupping water in her hand and splashing them over her gills.

“Hate cattle,” she muttered. “Too much damn dust.”

Edge rolled his eyes. “You hardly picked a better living.”

“Better ‘n that,” she grunted, climbing back into the saddle. Edge followed suit, patting his steed on the neck as he climbed up.

They rode past a few stores as they made their way further into town: dry goods, postal offices, boarding houses. He let her take the lead, his partner easily navigating the packed dirt and gravel streets of the city as she made her way to…

They stopped in front of a low building, wide and made of fresh wood. The shutters on the windows were open, leaving the coppery smell of blood and faint sharpness of alcohol. The sign on the front read “DENTISTRY/DOCTOR.” Edge raised a brow at Dyne as she slid off her horse in front of it, losely wrapping the reins around the rail in front.

“I was under the impression that you hated doctors.”

“I hate most,” she said, then made her way up the few steps to the porch, walking in the door. After a few seconds the boy from earlier stumbled out, his face a sickly pale and shoulder roughly bandaged. He clutched his bloodied shirt in his hands, and his eyes darted nervously to meet his own. Edge only nodded at him and watched as he moved to saddle the other horse that was resting out front, quickly moving away. Some relief came to him at the sight of the boy, but he shoved the thought away as he slid off his own horse, setting his up beside Dyne’s.

He walked into the building to an unusual sight. Dyne was sat in a chair, her hat off and resting on a table to the side. Edge couldn’t think of a time he’d ever seen Dyne look nervous, or even chided, but both were somehow on her expression as she sat in front of a much shorter lizard monster, the stranger loudly berating her as she unwrapped the bandana tied around her hand.

It was only then that Edge got a glimpse of her injury. Two of her fingers were bloodied and torn down to the bone. Or what remained of them, anyways. One had been blown clean off while the other was half missing, the blood dark and dry.

The stranger finished her tirade, the frills that decorated her head flaring slightly before they rested back down. “Sorry, Alphys,” Dyne said, quiet.

The stranger- Alphys- huffed, stepping away and moving to a large set of shelves. She pulled out an unopened bottle of alcohol and gauze, as well as a suture kit. It was only when she turned that she noticed Edge, eyes widening behind the thick rim of glasses set on her nose. An apron was wrapped around her front, stained with the off-pink of watered down blood. Her gaze fell to the floor as she quickly brought the supplies back to Dune, setting them on the small table beside the chair.

Dyne dutifully stretched her hand out when Alphys came over, only barely wincing when the doctor started to clean her wounds. “Why is it that whenever I see you, it’s always because you’re injured?”

Dyne grinned. “Maybe ‘cause I know yer the best doctor out here.”

The frills on Alphys’s head pressed closer to her neck, like she was trying to make herself smaller. She picked up the suture kit, handing a small piece of cloth to Dyne to place between her teeth. She only set the cloth to the side, jaw set firmly as she started to pull the open wound back together.

“I’m not a doctor,” she said. It was spoken in the way of something said from habit. “I just help him.”

“You may as well be, with the work you do,” Dyne replied. It was entirely too fond, too soft for what he was used to. Edge moved to a chair by the window, fixing his gaze outside and doing his best to ignore the two.

He heard Dyne curse before Alphys calmly asked how the injury happened. Edge glanced over and met Dyne’s eye as she looked up at him. “A… run-in with a few who’re less than fond ‘a me. A bullet went haywire ‘n hit my hand.”

Alphys sighed. “You’re lucky it didn’t ricochet into your torso.” 

“Maybe unlucky. Otherwise I woulda been able ta spend more time with you.”

Dyne swore loudly, then. Edge looked over his shoulder to see Alphys angrily pulling the sutures tight, Dyne gripping the table with her free hand. The doctor glared at her hand, her tail moving slowly back and forth in irritation.

“...Sorry, ma’am,” Dyne said after a moment, and it was then that the situation became entirely too much for Edge.

He stood, making his way to the door.

“I’m going to find a bathhouse,” he stated loudly. 

Alphys looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “There’s one on down the street,” she said. “It’s, uh, it’s right behind the hotel. Can’t miss it.”

He thanked her and walked out the door, glad to be leaving both the smell of blood and the awkwardness of the other two.

The inn wasn’t hard to miss, the sign large and bright red, and just as stated there was a bathhouse just behind it. He tied his horse outside the building, bringing in his bag and paying the few coins for a fresh bath and towel. It was a relief to wipe the grime from the cracks in his bones and his joints, even if he knew that within a few days it would all return.

He left the bathhouse satisfied and walked his horse the few feet to the inn, renting two rooms for a few days- long enough that Dyne wouldn’t end up with infection from her injury. He boarded his horse in the livery beside it, letting the owner know he was paying the way for a ‘friend’ of his, giving Dyne’s description.

About an hour later he heard a hard knock at the door. He opened it to see Dyne, her injured hand tightly wrapped. She raised her brow at him, crossing her arms.

“Two rooms? Never took ya fer a frivolous spender.”

Edge stepped to the side, enough that Dyne could see the guns he’d grabbed from the group earlier, carefully taken apart and polished. “Selling these will make quite a few dollars. More than enough to cover it.” And then, fighting down a smirk. “Plus I figured that you’d want your own room in case your  _ doctor  _ needed to make a house call.”

Dyne shot him a glare. If her dominant hand wasn’t injured he was sure that she’d have swung at him already. “You’re a really funny bastard, aren’t’cha?”

She placed her good hand on his chest and shoved him hard enough to push him back a few steps. As the door started to swing close he saw her turn to walk away to the room just beside his, glowering.

He turned back to the table where the weapons were laid out. They were fairly nice guns, mostly well kept. Enough to gain an impressive set of funds on their own, when sold. He carefully put the guns back together before sliding them back into his satchel, wrapped in fabric. The sun was still out, but once it started to make its way to the horizon he planned to make his way to one of the many bars in the town.

Information there was easy to get if you bought enough rounds of drinks. And if you were good at cheating at poker.

Luckily for Edge, he was able to do both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter summary, if you needed to skip it: 
> 
> Dyne and Edge both come across a group who were paid to kill Dyne after hearing she was coming to the town, as a few people higher up don't really like her for some reason (very odd, that.) Most of them end up killed, but Dyne ends up getting shot in the hand. They go to the town doctor's to see Alphys, where Dyne's hand gets repaired and the two of them obviously flirt with one another while Edge uncomfortably stands to the side. Edge takes a nice bath and the chapter ends with him planning to go to the nearby saloons over the course of the next few days to gather as much info about their bounty and such as he can. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> like my writing? want to kill me and assimilate yourself into my life? good luck with that! come check out my [tumblr](https://ollie-oxen-free.tumblr.com/)!


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